A few miles from my house on a heavily traveled road, there’s a billboard that claims the COVID vaccine is the dreaded mark of the beast (at least that’s what it is this month) and urges people to believe in god instead of science. Naturally, there is zero attribution as to who created the billboard, no web address, no company name. Just a huge sign spewing dangerous bullshit, unchecked and unfiltered.
Faith in and of itself is fine, but when it turns to fanaticism and starts to replace logic and evidence with a message that can’t be proved and is part of a very dangerous con, and it turns into something that should be eradicated. A.L.N., the sole creator behind atmospheric black doom project Mizmor had a long journey with the Christian faith before that turned into atheism, and his new EP “Wit’s End” is a frustrated lash into people who have left behind all sense for expecting god to protect and heal them. It’s fucking baffling that people think this way, and as we see continue to have death accelerate from a plague that’s being fueled further by humans behaving in this manner. It’s enough to wash your hands of them and care not for what ending they face. This EP contains one track with Mizmor’s traditional sound, one that’s a haunting ambient piece, inspired by A.L.N.’s very real, very understandable anger and disgust with people who are actively contributing to death and misinformation. It’s the sound of being at the end of your rope with no more energy to waste on these people.
The title track runs 14:58 and trickles in as dialog about people refusing to acknowledge evidence, facts, and science, instead waiting for their god to save them, something that should irritate everyone alive as we watch people die needlessly. “Ingrates of truth depend on its utility, you revel in its luxury, and you spit in its face and deny it like I do god. Your stupidity is blatant, your ignorance astounding. Sometimes I wonder if the truth is even worth knowing.” He later follows that with, “I have not words, just feelings, heavy as the earth, hanging around my neck.” It’s sobering this infuriating reality in which some of us must face, and you will feel that when the darkness drops, the shrieks explode, and everything sprawls with the desperation to get away from these fucking people. Doom drones and the playing knifes back as A.L.N. wails, “Annihilation is the law!” leaving you blistered as the playing gets deeper and richer but also more volatile. Shrieks well, all hopes fade, and everything melts into the earth with evaporation as the only thing remaining. “Pareidolia” is 14:05 and mostly is an ambient piece that feels like your body leaving this earth, immersed in angelic haze as your mind numbs you to the imminent reality. The track transcends and settles into mournful valleys, sounds swirling overhead, warbled voices crawling out of your dreams as your temperature drops. Alien transmissions stretch, staring you in the eyes from a plane you never imagined before that’s about to become your home.
Having faith in something celestial isn’t necessarily a destructive thing, but when it gets in the way of people’s health, mental well-being, and ability to live a sensible life, it turns into a demon. A.L.N.’s journey helps inform “Wit’s End” and acts as the fuel to his anger when he sees modern society hellbent to destroy itself over mere stupidity and the lust for false information. This record is cathartic to hear in the face of purposeful misleading data, a torch to its goddamn agenda that should burn and have its ash washed away.
It’s a new year, so let’s both ease you into things and put you in the most trauma possible right off the bat. Here’s a fun story: New Year’s Day, a goddamn meteorite is thought to have exploded in the air near where I live, which shook people’s houses and essentially scared the shit out of everyone. Somehow, I slept through this. Easing in amid a terrifying cosmic intruder rattling cages.
The first release we’re covering this year—Apes’ crushing new EP “Lullabies for Eternal Sleep”—kind of has the same idea going. You’re served four tracks that stretch about 12 minutes, so that doesn’t sound like a daunting task. But then you actually dig into this thing, and holy fuck, we’re barreling full speed down a mountain with no body armor and nothing to break our fall. This EP was written and created over the lockdown, and that didn’t stop the band—vocalist Alexandre Goulet, guitarists Patrick Cloutier, Simon Olivier, and Louis Ladouceur, bassist William Lapointe, drummer Gabriel D’Amours—from putting together a volatile, scathing collection that has no mercy to give and no salves for your wounds.
“Cornwall” boils in a noise storm (Full of Hell’s Dylan Walker provides these soundscapes) before it gets going in full, but once it does, look out. The band starts to hammer as the growls feel like they’re aiming to remove your guts from your body, just wrecking you physically. Hell unleashes as the band rips hard, and shrieks storm as the track bows to a haze. “Devour” begins with drums echoing and a slow-driving, heavy menace tunneling its way toward you. Sludgy power combusts as the terror spreads, your flesh gets scorched, and the final moments encapsulate your psyche in fear. “No Will to Live” speeds in with hardcore-style fury while the guitars heat up dangerously. Brutality takes over, leaving mangled flesh and blood behind, pacing a complete bludgeoning that feels like an ax driven through your chest. “Sore” closes things as a sound storm develops, the drums add to the assault slowly, and an eerie spirit aims for your safety. The playing is purposely oppressive, battering dangerously and completely, ending with bellowed roars.
“Lullabies for Eternal Sleep” is a mere 12 minutes, but Apes spend that time perfectly, delivering an attack that feels deranged and emotionally out of control. It’s like a runaway beast with no ability to calm down and no real reason to want to bring chill to your spiraling anxiety. This EP is a menace that hunts you down and isn’t finished with you until you’re changed forever for the worse.
Trying to determine the most important record for the year is not an easy task, and for us, it has nothing to do with what the best album was over the past 12 months. We have always gone with our favorite, the one that had been in our listening arsenal the longest or most consistently. The one record we always found ourselves immersed inside no matter what was going on. We didn’t need to freshen up anything, because that album was always there, and for us that was “XXI,” the cataclysmic and twisted second record from Succumb. In this case, it also might be the best heavy metal record from a quality standpoint in all of 2021.
The title of the album—“XXI”—comes from the final Major Arcana card in the tarot deck, and it symbolizes the end of a life cycle or pause before the start of the new life cycle. The album takes on themes such as the elements and their natural deities (and they’re likely plotting their revenge on us for how we’re treating this place), Lilith, the Boxer Rebellion, Arthurian literature, and many other fertile, thought-provoking ideas, with vocalist/lyricist Cheri Musrasrik drawing on poets/writers such as William Butler Yeats, Jean Genet, and Émile Zola to fully flourish her gripping words. Her performance is like that of a demon trying to inform the world of the ills that ravage it while the rest of the band—guitarist Derek Webster, bassist/vocalist Kirk Spaseff, drummer Harry Cantwell—launches into terrain that is mind-ripping, destructive, and slaughtering, which will do a number on your sanity.
“Lilim” opens the record with chaotic tension, unloading and snarling with the howls stampeding, the guitars slicing into your muscles, and the track running headlong into “Maenad” that slowly boils in the juices of the nasty growls. “They danced around a phallic stone, giving over to revels and rages,” Musrasrik snarls as pure soot smudges, the guitars soar before touching back down, and abrasive disorientation leaves you gripping for the walls. “Okeanos” stirs the turmoil, clobbering as the vocals aggravated oil fires. “Foam in a revolving whorl touches an unknown and sublime abyss,” Musrasrik sneers as your psyche is stomped into the ground, corroding and delivering a mauling finish. “Graal” scrambles impulses as it starts amid guitars hanging in the air and stinging the senses, with vicious growls swiping at you. “A divine substance held in the bloody relic, illusory phantoms, and secret words spoken to a knave,” Musrasrik digs as parts of the song get muddy and dangerously slow before things fire up again and thrash mightily, stomping out its foe. “8 Trigrams” closes the record, starting with militaristic drums and ominous tones, setting a strange ambiance that soon aims to remove your head. Things get dizzying and odd, with Musrasrik wailing, “Headless fighters and spirit guards are at war with mortals, shadowboxers moving in unison and covered by protective charms.” This record is an absolute mindfuck, a beast that knows no bounds and leaves you a psychological mess. All hail Succumb and their mission to mash death metal in their putrid image. (Sept. 24)
There are records that seem more like living beings, breathing through you, bathing you in their nourishing blood, becoming a portal to something else you didn’t even realize was accessible. They stick in you, they accompany you into dark and light, they become something of a companion as you battle your way through whatever trials and tribulations stands before you. They’re a part of your fabric, and you can’t imagine your path without them.
For the past 21 years, Belgian beasts Amenra have defied convention when it comes to their band and their creations. Members comes and go, all of which eventually get indoctrinated into the Church of Ra, meaning they’re always part of the body, and until now, their full-length creations have been labeled a “Mass,” ranging from I to VI. That last part changes with the release of “De Doorn,” which translated means “the thorn,” their first album that deviates away from a mass but never sacrifices any of the spiritual linking that solidified this band—vocalist Colin H. van Eeckhout, guitarists Mathieu Vandekeckhove and Lennart Bossu, bassist Tim De Gieter, drummer/percussionist Bjorn J. Lebon. They’re joined by backing vocalist Caro Tanghe (of the mighty Oathbreaker) on this five-track, nearly 47-minute album that centers on the themes of dialog and the passing of knowledge, which is given more intense treatment through the dual vocals and long passages of speaking that often feel like a hush.
“Ogentroost” emerges from the mist and lets sounds waft over, numbing you as guitars drip in, and a long section of speaking pushes the plot. The track then opens and scorches, delivering heavy blows as Tanghe calls out in the background. The track keeps finding new ways to break open, the shrieks rain down hard, and a huge emotional deluge takes you prisoner, scraping your psyche. The latter half of the track is used by AEW wrestler Malakai Black as his ring entrance, which is one of the most mysterious in all of pro wrestling. De Dood In Bloei” expands as sounds envelope in an ambient cloud. The pressure soothes as Tanghe speaks through layers of time, almost like a prayer, capturing your imagination and treating your wounds. “De Evenmens” begins with shrieks striking and frantic pounding making your heart race before more dialog clouds your senses and helps you melt, language barrier be damned. The final two tracks are the longest, beginning with “Het Gloren” that’s a healthy 11:31. It opens slowly as the doom collects, giving off a strange haze. As the playing starts to swell, the shrieks devastate, and fiery chaos licks the surface of the earth, with the vocals continually ripping hard. “Voor Immer” is the closer, bleeding for 12:42 and starting in a heavy murk as guitars drip and quiet singing trickles. The bulk of this track is quite reflective, an exercise in patience as you await the highs and lows. There is even a gentler pace at times, letting you float along as the guitars drain. About 8 minutes in, the hammers drop and wild shrieks peel back flesh, leaving you exposed. Genuflect in awe in front of the altars of the Church of Ra. (June 25)
Writing about grief and the accompanying pain can provide heavy catharsis, but I still don’t like doing it. Reason is bad shit has really happened to me the last 12 months, and that’s encased inside a world that’s still half trying to stay alive and half foolishly mocking the ones who want to live responsibly. Records such as “Silence/Motion” are great to have by your side while you’re in the midst of that battle.
Blackwater Holylight use their third record as a sort of vessel for their grief, be it personal or the pain the world has been in for the last 24 months, which has just crushed so many people. Over seven tracks, the band—vocalist/bassist/guitarist Allison “Sunny” Faris, guitarist/bassist Mikayla Mayhew, synth player Sarah McKenna, drummer Eliese Dorsay, (Erika Osterhout joined as second guitarist live)—poured themselves and their frayed and bruised emotions into what turns out is their most impactful and varied work yet. Yes, their doom thunder remains, as does their power, but they’ve also delved deeper into folk territory and softer, vulnerable sounds to make a more well-rounded, realized sonic picture.
“Delusional” begins the record fairly inauspiciously at first, letting the music drip through a crack in the window before the power is released, and we’re on our way. Faris’ vocals have a way of getting into your bloodstream and calming you, while Thou’s Bryan Funck lends his instantly recognizable scowl to the background as the track really reveals its power. “Who the Hell?” spirals in as the singing haunts and cold waves wash upon you, giving you instant gooseflesh. A crystalized vibe is achieved as their dreams enter yours, and Faris wearily calls out, “I can’t describe this pain I wear, it suffocates, and you left it here.” “Falling Faster” is dreamy and psychedelic, easing you in as Faris’ vocals float, and the ether in which you’re swimming intensifies. It feels like your mind numbs, the melody lines buzz harder, and your feelings are flushed from your cells, slowly drubbing you into submission. “MDIII” moves gently through acoustics and piano before the energy kicks in fully, mashing you and heating up to levels that test your strength. “Every Corner” wraps the record and starts on a mind-altering trip to which you’ll commit without question. Synth beams emerge as the track grows sludgy, and growls from guests Mike Paparo (Inter Arma) and A.L.N. (Mizmor; he also produced the record) add extra thorns to pierce your flesh. Blackwater Holylight always were mighty, but this is the record where they truly came into their own. (Oct. 22)
I have a bit of a jealousy for people who are really good at videogames and have the commitment to see them through. I used to be that way, but I’m tired, which isn’t a very good excuse. Noctule, the black metal project solely helmed by Serena Cherry (guitarist/vocalist for Svaldbard) not only can commit to a game, but she wrote an entire goddamn album about “Skyrim,” and it gives me more guilt over my laziness.
On “Wretched Abyss,” she digs into classic second-wave black metal without the shitty politics, hammering with eight tracks that are flooding with melodic riffs and adventurous playing that it’s super easy to get caught up in everything. Cherry’s guitar work always was a huge highlight of Svalbard’s music, but it’s even more gigantic and alluring here, and her vocals are downright mean and vicious. This is an awesome display that buries you in power and strength, engulfing you in dragon fire. It’s an album I loved instantly, and it only grew on me since then, becoming something that always was somewhere in the periphery, threatening with chaos.
“Elven Sword” gets us started with shrieks and a melodic gush before the pace is shredded, and great leads hold it all together as the glue. The track jolts your blood, the guitars remain white hot, and the fury drowns out at the end. “Labyrinthian” is spacious when it starts with great melodies pouring in and the riffs just flexing in your face. Cherry’s vocals crush as everything spills into a breezy gaze, a quick breather after your throat is chopped heavily. The playing is elegant and dark, guitars flood your senses, and everything burns out with heavy emotion. “Evenaar” opens with a different pace as the playing chugs, the growls crush, and the leads add new rays of light. There’s a warmer post-rock vibe to much of this before the drums come unglued, your head fills up with clouds, and the growls well, sent to the finish line with devastating guitar work. “Winterhold” has great leads swimming as a thick fog rises, and then everything gives way to speed. The drums club as the playing encircles, exciting gusts make your adrenaline surge, and the shrieks maul, burning off into the night. “Deathbell Harvest” drips into the scene before rushing through, as the riffs stab and draw spurts of blood. The melodies crush amid warmth while the playing churns guts. The leads explode with energy, Cherry’s shrieks devastate, and the guitar work makes lava spit from the earth as the track winds down. This album makes me want to re-engage with “Skyrim” even if it inserts me hopelessly locked in the throes of vertigo. (May 28)
It’s been a devastating year for death metal, and that’s a good thing. You really want death metal to have a fun, vibrant year where everyone is happy? In this pandemic? At a time when we were at our mental worst, death metal was here to remind us things have been ugly all along, and UK crushers Wode were front and center.
Wode, who also incorporate black metal flourishes, always created music that destroys and refuses to let go, but it’s not just a heap of brutality. The band always has woven in melody, imagination, and fury into their formula, making it a more well-rounded attack than many other bands in their stratosphere. Wode returned to that formula with their third full-length “Burn in Many Mirrors,” their first since 2017 and initial offering through 20 Buck Spin. This record already was making seismic waves when 2021 still was relatively young, and it’s an album you should go out of your way to hear, especially if you bask in the dark arts and need some serious stimulation. The band—vocalist/guitarist/synth player M. Czerwoniuk, guitarist/backing vocalist D. Shaw, bassist E. Troup, drummer/guitarist/synth player T. Horrocks—delivers a mammoth display over 6 tracks and 39 minutes that never, ever let up.
“Lunar Madness” kicks off with a burst of violence and melody as the riffs race, and the playing explodes. The guitars just hammer away as Czerwoniuk’s growls get under your skin and ravage you, with the leads welling and swimming. The growls pummel as the song speeds up, rage pours out of every seam, and the track comes to a smothering end. “Serpent’s Coil” delivers strong riffs designed to clobber as the vocals scorch, and great leads drive the way. “Sulphuric Glow” crushes from the start as the guitars begin to stir, and the leads dare you to unleash yourself and take the journey with them. Classic metallic riffs act as a spine while a thrashing assault takes over your body, mashing you all over before coming to a merciful, albeit mangling, end. “Streams of Rapture (I,II,III)” ends the album, a 9:54-long triptych that starts with eerie keys floating and the drumming awakening before the track explodes. Everything is vicious and unforgiving as trudging power leaves bruises, and the growls gurgle. The intensity rounds back as a fiery, yet channeled attack is mounted, and the leads just take over. It’s a wrecking document that paid off the promise Wode has shown from the start. (April 2)
10. SPECTRAL LORE, “Ετερόφωτος” (I, Voidhanger): Looking back on our own personal history can give us a chance to examine where we’ve been, what we’ve done as people, and if we’re on the right track to where we want to go in the future. Spectral Lore’s sole creator Ayloss was on a similar path as he constructed his project’s latest full-length record “Ετερόφωτος,” a title that loosely translates to “the one whose light comes from others.” Ayloss took time for serious self-reflection using maturity and awareness in order to navigate his path backward to go forward. His music is heavily immersed in black metal, a music form with a troubling past and present, though artists such as Ayloss have spent time trying to change some of that so it’s not entirely a pit of horrible people with even-worse ideas.
“Ατραπός” starts the record, a 12:42 epic that opens in a storm with Ayloss’ shrieks ripping into your rib cage. The track rampages as the fury builds, and the guitars jettison all over, clobbering the senses and leaving the room spinning. Guitars spit fire again, the tempo shifts, and the chaotic gust pulverizes until a cold front arrives, altering the temperature again. “The Golden Armor” is the shortest track, still running a healthy 7:33 and launching into a ferocious pace with speed and Ayloss’ growls crushing beneath their weight. “The Sorcerer Above the Clouds” runs 11:16 and begins with clean tones and warmth, lulling you into serenity until the bottom is torn out. Guitars come to life and hit the races as the drums rampage, and everything comes unglued. “Terean” closes the record, the longest selection here at 19:10. The track is an ambient piece that boils in alien noises, subtle beats, and voices traveling through the stars. Storms lightly spread and rain static, chants emerge, and strange waves lap over you, putting this journey to sleep deep within the earth’s core. (April 23)
9. KING WOMAN, “Celestial Blues” (Relapse): Kristina Esfandiari falls in with those who were ravaged by religion, who saw its worst face and spent years trying to recover. Her band King Woman has been a vessel for the mental anguish she suffered growing up in a Charismatic Christian family, where speaking in tongues and exorcisms in home were regular occurrences. On top of that, Esfandiari also suffered a near-death experience as a child, as well as faced constant threats of eternity in hell, and all of this is wrapped into King Woman’s second full-length, the enrapturing and cathartic “Celestial Blues.” This nine-track record is as raw and vulnerable as anything Esfandiari has put to tape, and that’s a major statement since the thematic material and music to this date have been both infectious and gripping.
The title track starts the record, quietly flowing as Esfandiari, in a chilled hush, calls, “The devil left a bruise, but God left a light on for Her wayward ones, left under a fountainhead for dead, casting out the spirit of death.” The track then bursts with life as she clings and climbs through the trauma, the music pounding away, her pain on display as the track bows out. “Morning Star” is the lead single and recounts the fall of Satan, and she makes him a more sympathetic character as she takes on his plight. “Boghz” is a slow drip at the start as the atmosphere develops, and her trademark whispery delivery gets inside you and chills. But you know the strike is coming, and as she wails, “Hey!” the heaviness untangles, and she howls defiantly, “Here’s what I’m gonna do, get down on my hands and knees for you, you know this is a lie, shot down by the arrows above.” “Paradise Lost” ends the record, focusing on the John Milton text of the same name that is another focus here. It starts with a hush, opening the wounds and letting the blood flow. “I need a place I can grieve,” Esfandiari admits as the tempo keeps you at an arm’s length. There is nothing in this world like King Woman, a force for which no one can possibly stand against and survive. (July 30)
8. HELLOWEEN, self-titled (Nuclear Blast): As much as I love Helloween, and I’ve been a fan nearly since their start, even I didn’t expect their sort-of reunion and their self-titled record to be something that would be more than just a nostalgia trip. Fuck, was I ever wrong, and I could not be happier about it. This record is full of life and while it’s a little longer than it needs to be, it’s the perfect way to unite every era of the band into this 12-track, 64-minute record. Its current members—vocalists Mike Kiske and Andi Deris, guitarist/vocalist Kai Hansen, guitarists Michael Weikath (a lifer) and Sascha Gerstner, bassist Markus Grosskopf (another lifer), drummer Daniel Loble—bring all their finest elements together and not just coexist but to thrive.
Out for the Glory” is just a killer opener as the track speeds in, and Kiske takes the lead, making it feel like the band’s first glory period again. The chorus is huge and surging, and then Deris blasts in and delivers some harsh screams as the guitar erupts, and the track ends in great glory. “Fear of the Fallen” starts clean and hammers away, as Deris takes the lead and drives. Shock of shocks, it’s another killer chorus, and then the guitars take turns with the soloing, giving everyone a chance to shine, and then everything rips back in, with the calls of, “Listen to your heart,” bursting with positivity. “Best Time” erupts with sounds bubbling and the energy bleeding. “Indestructible” brings chugging guitars and the pumpkins again defying all the odds, calling, “Because we are one,” as all their voices align. The track is anthemic as they battle for freedom, the guitar work bursts from the gates, and Kiske’s and Deris’ voices bring the track to its end. The awesome 12-minute closer “Skyfall,” a track about a fallen alien stuck here on earth, is classic Helloween, the perfect amalgamation of all their eras, bringing their best to the table. Kiske starts the track, sounding like he never went away, and Deris follows him up, adding more grit. It’s a great epic, one of the best tracks in their entire catalog. (June 16)
7. USTALOST, “Before the Glinting Spell Unvests” (Gilead Media): Yeah, we had our list busted, but the reason that happened is the middle of December we were delivered “Before the Glinting Spells Unvests,” the second effort from Ustalost, which is helmed by Will Skarstad, co-founder of black metal spirits Yellow Eyes. The album is just astonishingly great, which is no big surprise, and it makes a heavy lunge into even more immersive synthesizers and cosmic energy that aims to fill every pore with this record’s majesty. When I listen to this record, just like I did with every visit with Ustalost’s debut “The Spoor of Vipers,” I feen transported elsewhere, a place where my imagination can thrive and where strange scenes splash in my mind and play out along with the music.
“Enough Glass Will Cast a Shadow” get things started basking in a synth cloud that feels almost as if it’s emitting the green and blue from the cover before the track tears apart. The shrieks punish as they echo in the atmosphere, the pace charges with a progressive energy, and the riffs cascade, washing you away with them. “Stinging Stone” basks in fog as the tempo arrives under cover of night, and the vocals rip hard, joined by an inhuman clean choral section behind, taking you into the stars. The bass slinks and slithers as vicious cries jolt, and a blinding storm arrives that robs you of sight. The title track gets moving in a hurry as tricky riffs tangle you in laces and then taunt, encircling you with a gust of chaos. Chilling choral sections cause you to shiver as the guitars confound, the bass tramples, and a delirious push ends in soot. The 9:08-long closer “Bright Window Closing” is a track that muscles its way in with strong guitar work and flooding melodies that work alongside the vocals that carve into your skull. A disarming chorus sits behind and haunts while the pace doubles and blisters, folding in on itself. I can’t think of a better way to end 2021 than with another mind melt from Ustalost. (Dec. 17)
6. PANOPTICON, “…and Again Into the Light” (Bindrune Recordings): We long have had a soft spot for Panopticon, the atmospheric black metal project long helmed by Austin Lunn, and it’s because we’re constantly rewarded with records such as “…and Again Into the Light,” the band’s 10th full-length. While Panopticon often keep close to home with their melodic black metal intertwined by bluegrass, inspired by Lunn’s Kentucky origins, a new record never means regurgitation. Every fresh collection means a separate adventure that easily lives alongside the rest of the discography but always stands as its own, unique entry, and this eight-track, 71-minute beast continues that tradition of magical power and absolute wonder. Here, Lunn also is joined by violinist Charlie Anderson and cellist Patrick Urban, as well as guest vocalists Jan van Berlekom (Waldgewfluster) and Eric Moggridge (Aerial Ruin) to fully flesh out this vision, and their contributions are vital to the mood and texture.
The title track opens layering violins and tender acoustics with Lunn’s quieter vocals, an unassuming way to start the record, and that blends into “Dead Loons,” which remains tranquil for a stretch before the storm clouds open and soak the grounds, the heaviness entering into gloomy stretches as the violins swoon, making your heart gush with power and emotion. “Rope Burn Exit” starts in similar form with strings calling before the lava bursts, growls roar into the wilderness, and the flood of melodies enter your senses and flood you with stirring feelings that stay with you for the life of the track. That back end races even harder, flowing right into “A Snowless Winter” that’s as pummeling as anything on here, as is “A Moth Eaten Soul.” That track is gut wrenching and glorious, raging toward the edge of the wilderness with an unchained spirit that ends in volcanic ash. “As Golden Laughter Echoes (Reva’s Song)” is a short, rustic cut that pulls back on the intensity, and that bleeds into “The Embers at Dawn” that features Moggridge’s singing leading most of the way through a foggy dream, though the final moments are storming and huge. “Know Hope” is the closer, a devastating, dismantling track that cascades and crumbles, with some of the fieriest yet brightest guitar work that unloads and disappears into swelling strings. Every moment of this record is vital not only to heavy metal but to the human spirit. (May 15)
15. KHEMMIS, “Deceiver” (Nuclear Blast): It’s easy to get down on oneself when we don’t think we’re measuring up to an imagined set of rules, and our minds drive us into the void. Fuck, that very idea essentially is the thread of my life. A lot of this thinking flows through “Deceiver,” the excellent fourth record from doom-inspired classic heavy metal band Khemmis, and these six songs certainly are the darkest of the band’s run, even when they burst with glory. Mental health has taken a beating for so many of us, so not only do we struggle with whether we’re living up to expectations, we also have the burden of being able to cope with depression and anxiety, which the band—guitarist/vocalist Phil Pendergast, guitarist/vocalist Ben Hutcherson, drummer Zach Coleman—has plenty of experience managing themselves. All of that with the pressure of delivering “Deceiver” on metal giant Nuclear Blast, a challenge they were more than capable of meeting.
“Avernal Gate” gets things started, and it packs with it a surprise, namely some tasty melo-death riffs that sound decidedly Scandinavian. The vocals soar, though Hutcherson is there with his gutting growls where need be, and that element has a bigger role on this record. “House of Cadmus” begins with clean lines trickling in, and then things open in full, pushing the tempo harder and faster. There is heavier darkness, especially vocally as the moon beams are strangled, and then the growls engorge, scraping through ugly and morose as the track trickles out in pain. “Shroud of Lethe” starts a little doomier as it moves slowly and deliberately with Pendergast wondering, “Why should I atone and wash away the pain? I can’t trust the memories leading me astray, still I hold on to what I know are lies, written in stone.” “The Astral Road” closes the album with clean playing, echoing leads, and a classic metal assault that emerges and takes over the land. The pace gets exciting and digs even harder, great leads flex their muscle, and Pendergast calls, “I’m praying for the rain to take it all away.” Great record, yet another one for Khemmis, who answer to no one but themselves now. (Nov. 19)
14. BIG | BRAVE, “Vital” (Southern Lord): Canadian trio BIG|BRAVE have made more with less for nearly a decade now, and even since landing with Southern Lord three albums ago, the band has developed a wider audience among many different pockets of folks who like heavy music. The immersive “A Gaze Among Them” is a five-track album that resets what you expect when you sit down with a heavier record. The band—guitarist/vocalist Robin Wattie, guitarist Mathieu Ball (both use a variety of guitar and bass amps), and drummer Loel Campbell—mixes post-rock, drone, and atmospheric doom, and on this album, they let things breathe more and the oxygen envelop their creation, using a more minimalist approach for these creations.
“Muted Shifting of Space” opens the record with slow drumming, guitars awakening, and everything building into the mix. The track conjures a dream state, as Wattie’s singing bounces over top the din, and the track gets numbing, with her vowing, “You don’t get to continue,” and later more forcefully declaring, “You don’t get to do this.” “Holding Pattern” has drone ringing in, Wattie’s voice piercing, and the drums picking up, adding to the rumble. “They took the names, all!” Wattie delivers purposefully, while the intensity and volume expand from there. “The Deafening Verity” is the shortest song here at 2:56 (nothing else is shorter than 7 minutes), with spacey noises spreading, alien vibes being set, and Wattie’s singing hovering over ghostly, buzzing drone. “Sibling” closes the record as sounds soar and sting, whipping back at you, and burly waves continue to crash down and over the band during the entire song. Another record from a band making some of the most important and deceivingly powerful sounds in all heavy music. (April 23)
13. HEAVY TEMPLE, “Lupi Amoris” (Magnetic Eye): Heavy Temple finally have delivered their debut full-length effort “Lupi Amoris” (translates to “wolves of love”). I was skeptical at first because I loved their previous lineup, but vocalist/bassist High Priestess Nighthawk surrounded herself with a smoking new lineup that includes guitarist Lord Paisley and drummer Baron Lycan. They created a five-track, 33-minute bruiser that reeks of doom thunder, bluesy haze, and psychedelic storms as the band is inspired by Angela Carter’s story The Company of Wolves, that takes the Little Red Riding Hood cautionary tale and turns it on its neck, embracing female sexuality and power, and lashing back against what society has deemed proper for a woman to possess and express. And they do it with fire.
“A Desert Through the Trees” has the bass trampling and heavy blues riffs cutting into you, as the vocals soar. “I feel you like you feel me,” NightHawk wails, blasting you with sultry glory as the guitar work follows suit, blazing into hell. Things really pick up toward the end as psychedelic bubbling comes for you, melting steel, bringing the track to a delirious end. “The Wolf” brings a heavily trippy atmosphere that’s so thick you can practically touch it, and your head is just swimming in smoke. “The Maiden” has guitars glimmering and the bass rolling hard as the guitars ignite. The track pounds away, psyche madness stretches its black wings, and the soloing rips your face off, blistering and leaving you bruised at the end. “Isabella (with Unrelenting Fangs)” is the longest track, running 9:30 and starting with bass plodding and guitars agitating. The track absolutely swaggers as NightHawk howls, “Come to me, my king, let me kneel for you,” exuding power. The wait for this record was paid off generously. (June 18)
12. WORM, “Foreverglade” (20 Buck Spin): We must be nice to the Sunshine State again because they’ve now puked up Worm, a misery-inducing, doom-glazed death band that is bellying up to our table with their great third record (and first released domestically) “Foreverglade.” Slithering over six tracks and about 43 minutes, the band—Phantom Slaughter handles vocals and multiple instrumental duties, Nihilistic Manifesto offers guest guitar work, L. Dusk plays drums on a session basis, and Equimathorn provides added synth—buries you in the grotesque and wondrous, creating music that should absolutely sicken you but also provides a mental stimulation that makes your nerves tingle.
The album opens with the title track, a gloomy, dour crusher that soaks in misery and pain with the vocals sounding like they’re trying to gut themselves. The fury opens and chugs, punishing as a doom fog thickens and helps wilt every living thing, playing with your senses until the thing ends in smoke. “Murk Above the Dark Moor” plods and pounds as shrieks explode, with the accompanying growls attempting to bury any sense of hope. “Empire of the Necromancers” starts with the riffs flexing and the growls hammering, ripping sheets of rust off corroded metal. The keys increase their presence as strong melodies stretch their enormous wings, and the playing gusts, taking on a strangely proggy vibe, picking up more speed, and thickening the emotional toll. “Centuries of Ooze” closes the album with organs rising and a burly spirit hovering over this 9:48-long mauler. The feeling of dread spreads fast, crushing hard and aggressively, wrenching your tested muscles. I feel grimy after every listen, but I like that? (Oct. 22)
11. CONVERGE, “Bloodmoon I” (Epitaph): Supergroups don’t work, they never will, and we should just stop trying so we avoid further embarrassment. Um, except now Converge, Chelsea Wolfe, Ben Chisholm, and Stephen Brodsky have come together and blew up that notion with their first collaborative effort “Blood Moon I,” that technically is listed as a Converge release. This entire crew performed together before, playing reworked Converge songs at 2016’s Roadburn. But pulling together to create fresh material is much different, and having everyone involved writing and contributing not just their own parts but for others as well shows just how flexible everyone involved here truly is. Wolfe and Brodsky tend to share the largest portion of the vocals here, though Jacob Bannon’s unmistakable howl also lifts heavily, while everyone else—Converge is rounded out by guitarist Kurt Ballou, bassist Nate Newton, and drummer Ben Koller—mixes hardcore, metal, Western-style dreaming, noise, and post-rock gazing, often with all of that in the same song. It works so fucking gloriously, it’s almost infuriating!
“Blood Moon” opens the proceedings, slowly coming to life as the music clears its eyes to see the world more focused. Wolfe leads, but as the track gets rougher, Bannon emerges with his trademark yelp, and the track pushes and pulls from light to dark. “Coil” is awash in acoustics and a gentler tone with Wolfe and Brodsky sharing vocals. “It’s like a serpent coiled inside of me,” they both call as the storm thickens. Shrieks strike hard as the pace increases, and the track comes to a riveting finish. “Flower Moon” has keys welling and slide guitar haunting with Brodsky taking lead. The track is sinewy and mysterious, slithering darkly as the emotion thickens, with the final moments devoured by static. “Scorpion’s Sting” is prickly and steely, a perfect opening for Wolfe to come on and drive the dagger deeper. The track is slower and stormy, a fiery solo lights the sky, and sounds reverberate as the song has consumed fully the dusk horizon. “Blood Dawn” is the closer and basks in a Western vibe, the declining sun still streaking the sky. Wolfe leads as chant-like vocals lather, echoes make you question your grasp on reality, and calls of “blood moon” create seismic waves that work down your chest and into your guts. (Nov. 19)
Meat Mead Metal 